


Ludicrous

by sileya



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 19:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sileya/pseuds/sileya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is stymied. John explains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ludicrous

John glanced up from his laptop to see Sherlock standing frozen in the doorway to their lounge, the oddest look of consternation on his face. It was so odd--and for Sherlock, that was saying something--that John almost choked on a giggle. "Sherlock? Something wrong?"

After a long moment, Sherlock's unfocused gaze found purchase and his brow unfurrowed slightly, but he was still slightly biting his lower lip. Then Sherlock's icy eyes zeroed in on John, both a blessing (occasionally, if John was feeling lucky or useful) and a curse (usually, if John was feeling uncomfortable or flustered). Sherlock took a breath and began to speak but audibly caught back his words before a single one escaped. It was so unlike his friend that John's amusement turned to concern. "Sherlock?" John set his laptop aside.

"John--" Sherlock stopped again, and a pang struck John's chest as real worry set in. He stood up but paused in place when Sherlock visibly shook himself and started over. "John, you know I pride myself on my intelligence. While I do upon occasion deliberately delete what I deem to be useless information..."

"Solar system," John murmured, nodding.

"...I do still maintain some modicum of general information on most any topic you'd care to bring up. But this...." Sherlock's words stalled again, and his lip curled as the line between his brows formed again. He looked at the same time disgusted and frustrated. It occurred to John that it was a ridiculously cute look on his ridiculously handsome flatmate.

"This...," John prompted.

Sherlock huffed and shifted back into motion, a more common sight as he shrugged out of his long coat and started pulling at his scarf. "John, what is that  _thing_ on the door downstairs?"

"Thing?" John echoed, now frowning himself.

"Yes. That  _thing_. I have no words for it. It's a completely absurd amalgamation of fanciful ideas that I cannot fathom why they would be so combined." Sherlock started to pace, his hands in his suit pants pockets. 

John watched him walk back and forth for a few breaths before he realized he hadn't answered. "I don't remember any  _thing_ on the door when I came in from the surgery. What's it look like?"

Sherlock stopped, spun in place, and sniffed, his chin set to one side as if he were loath to even look back toward the stairs. "A frolicking and inappropriately clothed pudgy infant with angel's wings carrying an oversized bow and quiver of arrows."  


The laugh bubbled up out of John before he could stop it, and Sherlock narrowed his eyes. John cleared his throat. "It's a cherub, Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson must be decorating for Valentine's Day."

Now Sherlock threw up a hand in no small amount of incredulity. "Valentine's Day," he practically spat. "A contrived holiday, to say the least, and one that has only the most tenuous of connections to its namesake."

John set one hand on his hip. "The cherubs use the arrows, see, and shoot at someone they want to make fall in love. When the arrow hits, the first person the victim sees is who they fall in love with."

Sherlock paused in place and stared at John. "How utterly asinine."

John shrugged. "Greek mythology. Or Roman, actually. Cupid? God of love?"

Just the edge of the left corner of Sherlock's mouth turned up. "God of love, is he?"

John wondered again how such a brilliant man could be so totally ignorant of common knowledge. "It's okay," he allowed. "You can delete it. It's not useful information for solving crimes. Want some tea?" He moved toward the kitchen, passing Sherlock on the way. "I stopped at Tesco-OH! Ow!" John swung around, staring at Sherlock in shock and rubbing his rear with the heel of his hand. Sherlock had pinched him!  _Hard!_ "What the bloody hell was that for?"

Sherlock had his hands clasped behind his back and was projecting an utterly innocent look--but for the deviltry John could see dancing in his eyes. "I don't know, John. It must have been an arrow from that ludicrous cherub." 

**Author's Note:**

> For my darling Julianne.
> 
> Prompt: Sherlock/John, cherub


End file.
